


Behind Closed Doors (Quiet Tears Fall)

by IronWoman359



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Fighting, Gen, no happy ending, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 22:57:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14603571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronWoman359/pseuds/IronWoman359
Summary: Unfortunately for Thomas, his main sides don't always agree on what's best for him. Usually their disagreements are nothing more than a slightly heated debate, but this time it's an all out shouting match. Emotions are running high, and Thomas can't take it anymore.





	Behind Closed Doors (Quiet Tears Fall)

“I can’t take this anymore! You act like everything is going to turn out perfect, when it’s  _NOT!”_

“You don’t know that!!! We might actually have a  _chance_  for things to be good if you let us take risks once and a while, but  _NO,_  you’re just too-” 

“I’m too what??? Go ahead, say it!” 

“Would you two stop this senseless bickering? Objectively, it is getting us nowhere, we should be-” 

“OH YES, it’s all about objectivity with you, isn’t it! Always so detached. Has it ever occured to you that it isn’t so easy for the rest of us to be cold and calculating?” 

“Excuse me? I’m detached? At least I have a grasp on reality!” 

“Guys, please, just stop! We’re all tired, let’s just take a break, we can watch some movies or-” 

“Oh yes, because that is an adequate solution. A cutesy, cuddly movie night, that will certainly solve all our problems.” 

“Leave him alone, he’s only trying to help!” 

“Since when do you care about anything remotely helpful?” 

“I  _ALWAYS_ CARE!” 

“STOP IT, JUST STOP IT!” 

“It’s no use, this conversation is too emotional to be of any-” 

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT EMOTIONS?” 

**“ _GUYS!”_**

Thomas’s voice cut through the air as he rose up into the mindscape, staring at his sides in disbelief. 

Virgil’s hood was pulled up over his eyes, his hands stuffed into his pockets to stop them from shaking. Logan and Roman were glaring daggers at each other, Logan’s nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily through his nose. Roman’s face was beet red, and he looked as though he was trying to decide whether to attack Virgil or Logan first, while Patton stood frozen in his spot, eyes wide and breath coming in short gasps. 

“Maybe…you all should just take some time…and calm down?” Thomas suggested, his eyes traveling from side to side. “Whatever this is about, it can wait until later,” he added as Roman opened his mouth to speak. “Take a break, all of you. We’ll come back to this once you’ve all cooled off.” 

“I think that’s a good idea, Kiddo,” Patton said, his voice even and measured. He looked at the other three, and after shooting each other a few more glares, they sunk out one by one. “Sorry about that,” Patton began, turning back to Thomas, but the host shook his head. 

“It’s fine,” he said, not looking at his moral side as he reached up a hand and rubbed his temples. “Take a break, Patton.” 

So Patton did, sinking out of the mindscape and popping up in his room. 

He lasted about five seconds there before he started to cry.

* * *

Virgil appeared in his room, and a moment later he jumped at a loud bang from down the hall. Roman must have appeared outside his door so he could have the satisfaction of slamming it shut. Virgil’s frown deepened at the thought of the prince’s dramatics. It was Roman's fault they were in this mess, really. 

Virgil  _knew_  that it was a bad idea to audition with the traveling theatre troupe, their rehearsal and performance schedule would make it even harder for Thomas to release regular videos, and so many people counted on him for that, he couldn’t let them down! Not to mention the constant traveling would strain his relationships with his close friends. So many changes had been happening recently, and Virgil couldn’t take that too, he couldn’t, he needed constancy,  _Thomas_  needed constancy….but tell that to Roman. 

Virgil balled his fists inside his hoodie pockets and bit his lip. The fanciful side was just so… _fanciful_ sometimes. Some voice in the back of Virgil’s mind knew that that was important for Thomas, but Roman just took it way too far. No regard for Thomas’s  _actual_  well-being, it was all about the ideals for the great Prince Roman. And Roman had the gall to say it was  _his_ fault? To say he didn’t care? Virgil bit his lip harder. At least he still cared about Patton. God, Logan was supposed to be Virgil’s friend, he was supposed to understand his side, just like he understood reality, so why couldn’t he see what Virgil saw in Patton’s attempts to de-escalate the situation? It was certainly more than what the logical side himself had tried. Virgil bit down on his lip so hard that he tasted blood, and that’s what managed to break the dam. 

He leaned up against his closed door, letting himself slide to the ground. He drew his knees up to his chest and buried his head in his arms. He wanted to bawl; to wail out his frustrations and his worries and his pain, but he couldn’t let the others hear. He was supposed to be tough; the edgy one of the group. He had a reputation to uphold, so instead of bawling, he simply let quiet tears fall.

* * *

Roman rose up in the hallway outside his room, simply for the satisfaction that throwing his door open and slamming it behind him would bring. The bang echoed around the hallway, and he knew the others had all heard it. Fine. He kicked at a stack of papers he had left by the door, breathing heavily as he watched them flutter around his room like snowflakes.  

Let them know how angry he was at them. Because he  _was_ angry at them, wasn’t he? At Virgil for trying to hold Thomas back from his dreams  _again,_  at Logan for remaining infuriatingly cold throughout their shouting match, at Virgil for being willing to side with Patton but not with him, at Logan for thinking he was so high and mighty, being above them and the emotions that drove their functions, at Thomas and Patton for stopping the argument before he’d won his way…

Roman grit his teeth and ran his hand through his hair. As much as he wanted to put all his anger on the others and distance himself from any of the blame…he knew he couldn’t. Because Roman was also angry at himself. His ideas were less than perfect, his dreams less than ideal. That was the only explanation for why they kept refusing to come true, why the others still found flaws in the things he presented to them. Yes, it was their nature to be skeptical, Virgil and Logan were so frustratingly fixated on reality, but surely if he only had the right idea, he could overcome that, and find the perfect dream for Thomas? Roman squeezed his eyes shut and let out a frustrated groan that turned into a whimper. 

He leaned his head back against his closed door and stared up at his ceiling, his arms folded across his chest and his shoulders tight and unmoving. He wanted to scream; to shout away all his imperfections and criticisms until they didn’t dare come back to haunt him again, but he couldn’t let the others hear. He was a prince and a knight; princes did not cry. He had a reputation to uphold, so instead of screaming, he simply let quiet tears fall. 

* * *

Logan arrived in his room, barely having time to register his familiar surroundings before he heard a loud bang from the hallway. He rolled his eyes at Roman’s dramatic display; honestly Princey could be overly dramatic at even the most inappropriate times. Logan removed his glasses, pressing his arm up against his forehead. Compared to his still flushed face, the skin on his arm was cool and soothing, and he stood for a few moments, trying to regain control of his breathing. 

Ha. How ironic that he,  _logic_ wasn’t able to control his respiratory patterns due to something as trivial, as inconsequential, yet as massive and complicated as  _feelings._  He should be perfectly capable of doing his job without them. And for the most part, he was. He brought clarity to the conversation when the others had it clouded with their emotions, he brought facts when the others debated their opinions. And it was something he was proud of, something he celebrated, even. To be able to see a problem objectively and point out the best course of action. Of course, that only could go so far when he was outnumbered three to one. 

Logan sucked in a breath as he replaced his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Their faces flashed through his mind, Roman’s anger, Patton’s hurt, Virgil’s shock. The more he dwelled on them, the more it felt as though a weight was pressing down on his chest, threatening to overturn his cool reasoning. No, not cool. Cold. Roman was right. He was cold, calculating. Virgil was right, Patton had only been trying to help. He hadn’t been thinking when he had snapped at the moral side, he had…reacted emotionally. Despite his role entailing presenting information without an emotional influence, he still  _had_ feelings, and here he was, allowing his mind to be controlled by them. The others’ faces ran through his mind again and Logan let out a sigh that could almost be construed as a whimper. It seemed that whenever he allowed his emotions to control his reactions, he ended up hurting those whose emotions mattered most to him.

He pressed his back against his closed door, sliding a hand up under his glasses to cover his eyes. He wanted to sob; to loudly release all the emotional energy he could feel building up inside him, but he couldn’t let the others hear. He was the logical trait, the logical trait did not have emotional problems; computers were not burdened with feelings. He had a reputation to uphold, so instead of sobbing, he simply let quiet tears fall.

* * *

Patton stood in his room, the tears rolling down his cheeks. He heard Roman’s door slam shut, and he winced. He could feel the anger, the frustration, the fear, the sorrow, the pain, the  _everything_  that was building up inside the others, his room only serving to magnify the massive onslaught of emotions. 

He stood facing his closed door and pressed his forehead up against the cool wood. He reached for the doorknob, his fingertips going so far as to brush the smooth brass, but he stopped just short of turning the knob. He wanted to call out to the others, to pull Roman into a hug and run his hand through Virgil’s hair and take Logan’s hands in his, to tell them that it would be alright, that they didn’t have to fight anymore. But his own emotions bubbled up inside him, and he knew he wasn’t strong enough to help them, not right now. They would expect comfort from a side who was happy, a side who would be able to properly take the pain away, a side who wasn’t also broken. 

He had a reputation to uphold, so instead of calling out, he simply let the quiet tears fall.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written when I was doing an ask game on tumblr: send me a fake fic title and I'll write a summary of what fic I imagine when I hear it. Well, this turned into a whole fic instead of a summary. Oops. Same thing happened when I got the title "Castle of Whispers," I ended up writing a 3,000 word fairytale with plans for more. *sigh* I am not a concise writer, lol. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this! I promise not _all _my stories are full of angst.__
> 
> __Just...you know, some of them._ _


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